


I'll Be Good

by MoonlightBreeze



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alec Lightwood & Jace Wayland Friendship, Alec Lightwood Deserves Nice Things, Alec Lightwood Feels, Alec Lightwood Has Self-Worth Issues, Alec Lightwood Loves Magnus Bane, Alec Lightwood Needs A Hug, Alec Lightwood-centric, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Emotionally Hurt Alec Lightwood, Episode: s02e05 Dust and Shadows, Gen, Good Parabatai Jace Wayland, Hurt Alec Lightwood, Hurt No Comfort, I slightly give him the nice things, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Post-Episode: s02e04 Day of Wrath, Self-Harm, Tags Are Hard, but I promise it does end on a hopeful note, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:21:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24149644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonlightBreeze/pseuds/MoonlightBreeze
Summary: After the demon kills Jocelyn, Alec retreats to the roof of the Institute and surrenders to the relief of hurting himself.My take on what Alec's thoughts might have been before, after, and during his exchange with Jace on the roof in 2x05. Also includes a missing scene between when he jumped off the roof and when he ended up at Magnus'.Trigger warning for canonical self-harm and mentions of blood. Hopeful/happy ending.
Relationships: Alec Lightwood & Jace Wayland, Magnus Bane & Alec Lightwood, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 13
Kudos: 136
Collections: Fluff vs. Angst Battle 2020





	I'll Be Good

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys! So, as I mentioned in the notes of my other fic, I'm rewatching Shadowhunters. 2x05 has always been one of my very favourite episodes for a lot of reasons, but I'll admit it's mostly because of that rooftop scene with Alec and, eventually, Jace at the beginning of the episode. 2x05 was the first time I actually noticed that Alec self-harms canonically in the show - after that, I started noticing all of the little things that are present in other episodes. So I'm naturally very fond of 2x05, since it's given me the basis for so much of content. I realised when I watched it the other day that I'd actually never written a fic about it! So, here we are - time to remedy that. 
> 
> There is a trigger warning on this fic for the canon self-harm we saw in that episode and some blood mentions. Please take care of yourselves and stay safe <3 Without further ado, let's get on to the story! Kudos make my day and comments validate my existence, so please feel free to leave those, if you want :) And as always, I hope you have a wonderful day/night!
> 
> ~ Em

Alec felt the bow string, already slicked with crimson, slice another line into his palm. He welcomed the pain, relished it; after what he’d done, he wasn’t sure there would ever be a night in which he _didn’t_ take the pain and transform it into his own twisted, macabre form of relief.

He couldn’t remember how long he’d been on the roof; all sense of time always seemed to flee when he sank too far into the depths of his mind. His quiver was nearly empty, he knew that. His arrows flew straight and true, and it gave Alec a grim sort of satisfaction to know that his inner turmoil didn’t affect his aim.

Occasionally, he would sneak glances at his hands in between fires. They were weeping slivers of blood and skin, and he noticed a pool of crimson at his feet, darkening the slate-grey stones to the colour of pitch. He remembered the way his hand had been bloodied the day before, as well. The only difference was that the blood wasn't his then.

It was Jocelyn’s.

The memory of what he’d done came rushing back to him in a moment, ending the respite his pain had given him. He felt bile rise in his throat, and he took aim again. When he loosed the arrow, his fingers were clumsy on the bow in a way they hadn’t been before. The bow string cut even deeper, and he allowed himself that small comfort. Not that he deserved it. 

Alec knew from years of experience with this particular brand of pain that his face was an unreadable mask, his eyes dead and his smile nonexistent. He looked like a statue, a ghost of the boy he once was and no longer knew how to be. 

Alec was neither a fool nor one to placate himself with false truths. He knew that happiness, for him, was an abstract concept that wasn’t likely to be found. He always knew that he wouldn’t be allowed to experience it. From the moment he was old enough to enroll in the Academy, he realised that his future was mapped out for him and he had no choice but to senselessly, mindlessly follow the map. His parents loomed over him like the shadows that haunted Izzy’s nightmares when she was young. They would always be there, and he would always have to obey their plan for him.

Obey, or take the greatest risk he would ever have to take and choose himself. 

Alec never thought he would end up actually taking that risk, let alone on the day of what was supposed to be the sealing of his future under his parents’ thumb.

After Magnus, Alec had found himself feeling inexplicably lighter. He smiled more, and his laughs were loud and unashamed rather than quiet little chuckles that only his siblings were allowed to hear. He would almost go so far as to say that he was _happy_.

All of that was before Alec let a demon into the Institute and ripped Clary’s mother’s life away from her in the blink of an eye.

That was before he had taken the life of an innocent.

Alec shot more arrows blindly, fueled by his guilt and the self-loathing that ran deep, much too deep for anyone else to comprehend. He was half-surprised when they hit their targets still.

“Alec.”

Alec turned to face whoever had said his name calmly. He wouldn’t betray the panic running rampant in his mind, no matter how much his arms ached from holding his position and his hand bled and stung from the sharp snap of his bow string. He wouldn’t show his rooftop companion his weakness. He knew his expression wouldn’t change. He’d been through this very scenario enough times as a teenager to learn how to control his facial expressions under the most extenuating of circumstances. Still, despite this innate knowledge, he found himself feeling exposed, almost naked; painfully vulnerable without much of a cause. 

It was Jace. Of course it was Jace.

“Move.” The command was short but he couldn’t find it within himself to care. 

“How long have you been up here?” Jace’s voice was gentle, soft; a voice that promised comfort, love, and security. A voice that he _hated_ , because he didn’t deserve it.

“I’m glamoured. No one can see me. Move.” Alec’s hands trembled on his bow and he cursed himself. He knew Jace would notice, and the small weakness was a failure on his part.

“You can’t beat yourself up.” 

“I’m not.” It was a blatant lie and they both knew it. 

As always, Jace called him out on it immediately. “Who are you talking to? It’s me. I’m your parabatai, I know exactly what you’re going through. What happened with Jocelyn, that wasn’t you, that was the demon - ”

“Get out of the way.” Alec was desperate now. He didn’t want to be having this conversation. He didn’t _deserve_ to be having this conversation. He didn’t deserve Jace’s sympathy. He didn’t fucking deserve it.

“Hey.” Jace’s voice wasn’t at all angry or frustrated, despite Alec’s tone. He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender reminiscent of younger years, and Alec felt his throat close up with emotion. “Same side, remember?”

Alec lowered his bow. Jace wasn’t going to move. 

“Come on, man. Come back inside.”

Alec’s stomach rolled at the idea of seeing Clary again. He felt his heart rate speed up at the thought of walking past Jocelyn’s room. His hands clenched around his bow as he considered the amount of stares and whispers he’d inevitably be subjected to. 

Word spread fast in the walls of the Institute. Everyone would know what he’d done.

He couldn’t face it.

“That’s the last place I want to be.” He walked over to the edge of the roof, peering out over the ledge at the empty street below. He could hear Jace’s footsteps behind him, knew the other boy was following him, but he didn’t care. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to take refuge in the thought of letting himself fall, right here, right now.

“Alec, Valentine has the Soul-Sword. He slaughtered the Silent Brothers. We need our best soldiers - ”

That broke Alec. He wasn’t a soldier. He certainly wasn’t the _best_. He wasn’t anything but a murderer. “Stop pretending this never happened!” Alec whirled around to face his parabatai. His eyes flashed with something akin to hatred, and he couldn’t decide if he hoped that Jace would be able to tell it was directed at himself and not his parabatai, or if he wouldn’t recognise the emotion at all. 

“I couldn’t save you from Valentine. I couldn’t save you from the City of Bones. I - ” Alec cut himself off. This wasn’t about his shortcomings, though the list was surely a long one. It was about what he’d done.“She’s Clary’s mother,” Alec said tightly. “ _Your_ mother.” There were so many other things he wanted to tack on to that statement, things like _I killed an innocent_ and _I’m a murderer_ but he refrained. Jace didn’t deserve to hear the inner horrors of his mind. No one should have to be subjected to that. 

His battles were his own to fight.

Jace looked taken aback for a moment, as though the realisation that Alec had indeed killed his mother as well as Clary’s hadn’t crossed his mind. He wrestled with himself, clearly trying to decide what to say. 

In the moment of indecision on Jace’s part, Alec made his own decision and activated his surefooted rune. He wouldn’t stand here and listen to Jace try and defend his actions when he didn’t deserve it. 

“Nobody blames you.”

Alec could barely keep from scoffing at that. Instead, he answered with the whole, honest truth: “They should.” 

Alec launched himself over the ledge and off of the Institute’s roof and for one blissful moment, the sensation of falling surrounded him before he landed hard on the street below. He picked himself up quickly, acutely aware of Jace’s gaze on him, and began to run. 

Alec criss-crossed his way through dark alleyways and deserted streets without a destination in mind, firing the remaining arrows in his quiver at the sky with abandon. He could hear his mother’s voice in his head, hissing at him to never be without a weapon in the streets of New York, where a demon could appear at any moment. 

Alec found, however, that the idea of a demon attacking him, defenseless as he was, wasn’t an entirely unpleasant thought. 

That realisation sent a shiver down his spine, and he tried to push away the thoughts that crept in from the shadows of his mind where they hid for weeks, sometimes months. The thoughts that highlighted the Brooklyn Bridge in golden hues and whispered that, if Jace hadn’t been on the roof with him, would he have really activated his rune? Or would he have just let himself fall, let it all be over, let himself be _done_ , finally?

Alec’s hands tightened on his bow, as if gripping the weapon could stop him from acting on his selfish, shameful desires. Not that he deserved to be alive after what he’d done, or deserved to live any more than Jocelyn deserved to die, but he couldn’t do that to Jace and Izzy. 

He was their big brother.

And no matter how bad things got, it was a title he would always hold above all else.

Alec paused at the fork in the street. One path, he knew, would take him to downtown Brooklyn and, eventually, the Brooklyn Bridge. The other path would take him to Magnus’s loft. 

Alec closed his eyes and let the images of Jocelyn, dead eyes unseeing, wash over him for what was certainly not the first time that night. His heart clenched painfully as he relived the devastation on Clary’s face when she saw her mother, dead by his hand, right in front of her. He saw Izzy, weak and stumbling from her injury. An injury that wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t been so careless as to let a _demon_ into the Institute. Finally, his mind’s eye swept over Jace, cut and bruised from his stay on Valentine’s ship and overnight stint in the City of Bones. Yet another failure on his part.

Alec’s phone chimed with a text. He had half a mind to ignore it, but when it began to buzz insistently, he dug it out of his pocket with a sigh. 

His breath caught in his throat when he saw the text. It was from Magnus.

_M: Jace called to inform me of what happened. He said that you ran away from him. I can’t say I understand what you’re going through right now, but please let me be here for you regardless. When things get crazy, don’t push me away._

Alec felt tears rise to his eyes, and he closed them, letting out a long, shaky breath. His hand, still slick with his own blood, ached horribly, and it only took Alec a few seconds to realise that it was the first time all night that he’d really registered the pain as an enemy, something to be _against_ and not _for_. A few tears spilled over and made salty tracks down his cheeks, but he didn’t attempt to wipe them away. Instead, he pocketed his phone once more and took a small, hesitant step in the right direction.

**Author's Note:**

> [Stalk me on Tumblr](http://moonlight-breeze-44.tumblr.com/)
> 
> Prompts are open!
> 
> Want to embrace your inner chaotic fandom participant? Require somewhere to scream about Shadowhunters and other fandoms? Need writing advice, encouragement, or new friends? [Join our Discord server](https://discord.gg/82pvdE39fD) and find your place in a community of fandom-ers livin' it up! We welcome everyone, and we would love to have you. <3
> 
> With that being said, thank you so much for reading and I'll see you soon!!
> 
> ~ Em


End file.
